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birdiethebibliophile · 8 years ago

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{fic} Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed (part 3)

Word Count: 3.3k Relationship: Lucien/Cassian Characters: Lucien, Cassian, Nesta, Mor Warnings: Just some regular ole Sadness in this chapter

Here on AO3.

(Tagging @squaddreamcourt so you don’t miss this one! :) )

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They were finally there, and Lucien wouldn’t get out of the truck.

“No,” he said flatly, head back against the seat. “No, Cass, okay?”

“Come on, Lu,” Cassian said, exasperated. “It’s not going to kill you.”

“Fuck off, Cassian.”

Cassian studied the other man through the open window. Body limp, as if he’d been tossed into the vehicle by someone who didn’t both to arrange his limbs properly. Eyes staring straight out the windshield. Mouth set in a line – Lucien’s normally thin lips, quick to smirk or snark, were almost invisible.

“It’s just the library, Lucien,” Cassian said quietly.

“Maybe I’ve become suddenly and dramatically allergic to paper. Ever thought of that?”

Cassian paused, then slowly went back around to the driver’s side of the truck and got in.

They sat that way – both looking forwards, neither acknowledging the other – for nearly fifteen minutes.

Lucien was the first one to crack, letting out a long, shaky breath. “Sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry,” Cassian said. “I should’ve listened to you the first time. Forgive me?”

Lucien nodded. “Yeah.”

Cassian glanced at him. “Is it… a job in general? Or libraries in particular? Or…”

“Both,” Lucien said after a moment. “My dad – my birth dad –” Cassian shifted, but didn’t ask him to clarify. “– has a thing with libraries. But more than that…” He paused to brace himself. “What if I can’t get a job? If I’m not qualified, or not what they want, or just not – enough?”

“Then we’ll find you a different one,” Cassian said. “All sorts of morons get jobs. Hell, all sorts of morons run this city, and yes, I include Rhys in that count. The question really is, do you want to try?”

Lucien stared out the windshield, russet eye blank.

“It doesn’t have to be today.” Cassian had just taken Lucien to therapy for the third time, and he knew the other man could be a bit… vulnerable afterwards. He should’ve remembered this – should’ve planned accordingly – but he’d been too excited about his idea. There was just something about Lucien that occasionally made him lose his mind utterly, which he also should’ve remembered.

“No. Today isn’t that much worse than any other day would be.” Lucien exhaled again, like he was reminding himself to breathe. “Just… give me a minute.”

Cassian nodded, pulling out his phone. He’d come to realize, even in the short time he’d known Lucien, that this happened a lot – gaps of silence that the other man seemed to need to catch up. Slow down. Get centered. Cassian didn’t really know which. Cassian was already used to filling these spaces with silent tasks. He’d read, or watch MMA videos with one headphone in, or text his brothers to tell them when he was free to get drinks. Lucien didn’t mind. He appreciated it, in fact – it allowed them communion without Lucien feeling like he was taking over Cassian’s life.

“All right,” Lucien said, sitting up in his seat.

Cassian turned off his phone and slipped it back into the pocket of his jeans. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

They both got out of the truck, Cassian locking the doors behind them, then headed across the parking lot to the library.

It was an oddly incongruous building, even in the mainly-residential area where Cassian spent most of his time. It was all sharp, elegant angles on the outside: crystal-clear windows and navy blue accents and LIBRARY printed in large, serifed letters over the front door. But once they got inside, Cassian thought as they walked through the heavy glass doors, it was very different. The walls were painted a comforting peachy-pink, and Cassian knew from experience that as long as you behaved and treated the books well, there were little nooks with rocking chairs and beanbags where you could stay for as long as you wanted. It was a haven, and had been as long as he remembered. He often saw homeless people, both men and women, sleeping at the worn wooden tables, and there were always a few tired adults printing out coupons for cat food or lugging their young children to storytime in the warm, brightly-lit basement. Once you got past the austere exterior, it was a place of safety.

It was, Cassian thought, not unlike the woman who worked there.

“Nesta,” he said, a smile spreading across his face as they approached the circulation desk.

The brown-haired woman, who looked to be in her late thirties, examined Cassian over the top of her glasses. “Cassian,” she said shortly.

He leaned against the desk, bracing his forearms on the surface. “C’mon, Nes, aren’t you glad to see me?”

“Not until you’ve paid your fines,” she said, turning a page in her book.

Cassian’s smile fell. “Damn. I forgot all about that. How much?” He dug in his pockets, pulling out his wallet.

“Six dollars and twenty-two cents,” Nesta said without looking up.

Cassian counted out the cash and placed it on the desk. “Now are you glad to see me?”

Nesta gathered up the money, counted it twice, put it in the register nearby, then typed something into the computer. Finally, she looked up, taking off her glasses and closing them with a small click. Her blue-grey eyes took both of them in, and the corner of her mouth quirked slightly. “Let’s go with that I don’t object to your presence. Who’s your little friend?” She pointed at Lucien with her glasses.

“This is Lucien,” Cassian said, stepping back to stand beside him.

“Nes? Who’re you talking to?” A lovely woman with blonde hair going grey at the roots and warm brown eyes strode out of the back office. She was wearing a sharp business suit. Her face tightened as she took them in. “Lucien Kelly. What are you doing here?”

Lucien looked vaguely ill. “I should go,” he muttered, turning as if to leave.

“Wait,” Cassian said. “Mor? A word?”

Mor waited until the door to Nesta’s office was closed before exploding – quietly. “What the hell, Cassian?” she hissed.

“I could ask you the same,” he snapped, then sighed. “Sorry. Listen. I know you haven’t spent a lot – any – time with him, but it’s not what you think. Feyre brought him with her because he was a victim of Tamlin’s abuse just as much as she was. I don’t know his whole story, but he’s gone through some shit, and he needs a fresh start.”

Mor tapped the toe of her shoe lightly on the carpet as she thought. Finally, she ran a hand through her hair, raised her eyes to heaven, and nodded. “You know I’d never deny a trauma victim help,” she said. “And I suppose as long as Feyre’s forgiven him…”

“She has. He’s been living with her and Rhys, actually.”

“Which he didn’t bother to tell me about,” Mor added in a grumpy sort of voice.

Cassian smiled. “You sound like Nes. She’s rubbing off on you.”

Mor’s face softened at the mention of her wife. “Well, we have been married nearly ten years. I should hope so.”

“Just give him a chance, Mor,” Cassian said softly. “Please. For me.”

Mor nodded. “I will. Can’t promise anything about Nesta, though.”

“Oh, I think they’ll get along swimmingly,” Cassian said, pushing the door back open and heading out from behind the desk.

“Who will?” Nesta asked, one finger marking her place in her book.

“You and Lucien,” Cassian said. “Seeing as he’s applying for a job here.”

Nesta’s gaze snapped to Lucien. “You are, are you?”

Lucien shifted slightly. “I was hoping so. Are there… forms I can fill out, something like that?”

Nesta sighed, flipped through a folder, and handed him a few sheets stapled together. “Get this back to me by the end of the day today,” she instructs. “And I’ll consider it.”

“I won’t have any references.”

“You have Cassian,” Nesta remarked. Something like a smile crossed her face. “In terms of character, at least, I trust his word. You’ll have to prove the rest of it.”

“Thanks,” Lucien said. “Cass… do you mind if…?” He gestured to the forms.

“Not at all. Here – I’ll show you someplace to fill them out.” Cassian grabbed a pen from the desk, winked at Nesta (who scowled at him), and led the way deeper into the library.

“So,” Lucien said, following Cassian through the shelves.

“So,” Cassian agreed.

“Nesta seems… nice.”

“She warms up to you,” Cassian said.

“How long have you two known each other?”

“For what seems like forever,” he replied. “She worked here as a volunteer when I was a kid. She was just a teenager herself, then, but she’d keep an eye on me when I’d sleep at the tables, you know? Make sure no one disturbed me…”

“You…” Lucien sounded startled.

Cassian glanced over his shoulder. “I was homeless, on my own, from when I was about five to a few months after I turned nine,” he said baldly. “That’s when Rhys and his mom came into the picture. Spoiled little rich kid that Rhys was, he saw me on the street and asked in that snotty way he still has sometimes why I was so dirty. Obviously, I punched him in the face.”

Lucien’s eye widened. “What happened?”

Cassian laughed a little. “His mom broke us up before either of us could do anything but give each other bloody noses and a black eye apiece. She asked me if I had anywhere to sleep. I said no. She asked if I wanted one. I said yes.” Cassian turned away from Lucien again. “She… I was part of their family from then on. Just like that,” he said, blinking away the sudden sting of tears in his eyes. He’d thought fifteen years would make it hurt less. He’d been wrong.

“What… if you don’t mind talking about it,” Lucien ventured after a moment. “What happened to her? Rhys said his parents were dead.”

“Leukemia,” Cassian said softly. “When Rhys and I were fifteen and Azriel was thirteen.”

“I’m sorry.” Cassian stopped at the feeling of Lucien’s cool hand on his arm. “Cass?”

“Yeah?” He turned and looked at the other man.

“She sounds like a wonderful woman,” Lucien said. “And a wonderful mother.”

“She was.” Cassian swiped a quick hand across his face. “Here’s the place.” He sank into a nearby beanbag chair, leaving Lucien the cushioned chair before the table. “Take your time filling out the application. If I know Nesta, it’s long and complicated.”

“Right.” Lucien sat down and started filling in blanks, but then put the pen down. “So that’s Nesta. And Mor… knows me already.”

“She knows of you,” Cassian corrected. “She’s Rhys’s VP – they’re good friends. She would’ve heard about you from him or Feyre.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t think she’d react like that. I didn’t think she’d even be here.”

Lucien propped his chin in one hand, balancing his elbow on the edge of the table. “I’m not really surprised. I can’t blame her. I… I let Tamlin abuse Feyre for months and turned a blind eye.” He tapped his cheekbone over his scar. “She was sick. She was my friend, and she was sick, and hurting, and I did nothing about it. She was right – what she said to me in that alley. I gave up on her.”

Cassian looked up sharply. Lucien’s skin had a pasty hue to it, and he looked like he was going to be sick. Immediately, Cassian got up and sat in the chair next to Lucien. “Lu?”

Lucien shook his head, eyes blind. “I told her not to take me with her,” he said hoarsely. “I told her… to leave me there…” His hands dropped into his lap. They were trembling.

“Lucien.” Very slowly, Cassian reached out and touched the backs of Lucien’s hands. “Listen to me. You’re here in the library. You’re safe. And it is not your fault.”

Lucien’s breath shuddered in his throat. He didn’t respond.

Cassian let the warm weight of his palms cover Lucien’s hands, which were splayed like he wasn’t aware of their presence. “Lucien,” he said again. “Tamlin hurt you, too. What he did isn’t your fault.” He swallowed, then, “You deserve to be safe. You deserve to be happy. And you deserve to have your own life. That’s why you’re here.”

Then he waited.

It was a long, long moment before Lucien’s eyes met his.

“What do you need?” Cassian asked.

“Just – just stay here for a minute. Like this. With your hands on mine,” Lucien whispered. His head tipped forward as if his neck couldn’t support it.

“Okay.”

Cassian didn’t know how long they sat there. He felt as if he could’ve sat there forever, with his hands resting on Lucien’s and the other man’s head bent, red hair falling in a curtain around his face. It was like a dream. They were both so quiet, he thought he could hear Lucien’s heartbeat. It sounded, in his head, like the whir of a hummingbird’s wings. Like when you listened to a baby’s heartbeat on an ultrasound and you couldn’t identify single beats – just a constant a-whoosh a-whoosh a-whoosh, as if the baby’s heart was beating so fast everything ran together. That’s what Lucien’s heart would sound like, Cassian thought. Quick as his tongue. Vulnerable as his soul.

Eventually, Lucien’s breath quieted, and he lifted his head. “Thanks,” he said, eyes still lowered.

“Hey. No problem,” Cassian said with a small smile. “Anytime.” He took his hands away, but immediately missed that point of contact. It felt like breaking a circuit – disconnected and wrong.

“I’ll, um, finish filling this out, then,” Lucien said, picking up his pen once more.

“Only do it if you want to,” Cassian told him. “I – you know, I didn’t ask if you wanted to work here, really. I won’t be offended if you want to try somewhere else.”

Lucien shook his head, pushing his hair out of his face and tucking it behind one ear. “No, I like it here,” he admitted. “It’s quiet. Organized. And I like books. I haven’t read a lot lately, and I’d like to start again.”

“What about Nesta?”

That actually drew a smile out of him. “I like her, too.”

“After one meeting?” Cassian leaned back in his chair with a laugh. “It usually takes people at least five to warm up to her at all. And most give up before then.”

“No, really,” Lucien said. “I mean, sure, she’s prickly, maybe even ornery, but she’s…” He trailed off, seemingly unable to find a suitable word.

“Safe,” Cassian said quietly.

Lucien turned to him. “Yeah. Safe. How… did you know?”

“How did I know what?”

“That this would be a good place for me.”

Cassian considered that, tipping his chair back on two legs. “Lucky guess?”

“Well – thanks. I owe you. Assuming I get the job.”

“As I said the other day, friends can do favors for each other,” Cassian said firmly. “If you really want to do me a favor in return, you can cook me dinner sometime. Rhys and Feyre have that nice kitchen, I’m sure they’d –”

“I can’t cook,” Lucien interrupted.

Cassian let his chair’s legs fall back to the floor with a thump. “When you say you can’t cook,” he began, “do you mean –”

“I can’t even crack an egg, Cass,” Lucien said, tone ironic. “I mean, I could microwave you a pizza, but I don’t think that’s exactly what you had in mind.”

“There’s only one solution to this, obviously,” Cassian informed him, leaning forwards and raising a single finger. “I have to teach you to cook.”

Color rose sharply in Lucien’s cheeks. It would’ve been hard for Cassian to believe he’d looked so sick a few minutes ago, if not for the lingering tremor in his hands. “I thought the point was for me to do something nice for you.”

“You will,” Cassian said with a grin. “You’ll give me an excuse to, one, make food for people, which is one of my favorite pastimes; two, teach someone something, which is my other one; and three, make sure you’ll never starve if you’re equipped with a stove, a frying pan, and an uncracked egg. You know the saying. Give a man a fish, and he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish…”

“I already know how to fish,” Lucien informed him, his cheeks still rather pink.

“You do?” Cassian said. “You never cease to surprise me, Lu.”

Lucien smiled at that. “I camped a lot when I was younger. I, um, taught myself to catch trout in the streams.” He paused. “With my bare hands.”

“Lucien,” Cassian said, genuinely impressed. “That’s some Mulan shit right there. I’m impressed, bro.”

Lucien ducked his head to hide his growing smile. “One of my few talents. Along with charming business moguls and arranging flowers.”

“All right, then if I ever need any flowers arranged, you’re the man I’ll call,” Cassian said. “And you can teach me the fish-catching thing sometime. Deal?”

“Deal,” Lucien agreed. “How do you know how to cook, anyways?”

“Rhys’s mom made sure we all knew how to do that kind of stuff. Cook, clean, do our own laundry. She didn’t want us to be…” Cassian trailed off uncertainly. “…dependent on anyone.”

“Makes sense,” Lucien said with a sigh. “You can see where that gets you. Twenty-six, unemployed, and living in your friend’s apartment.”

“Not unemployed for long,” Cassian reminded him, tapping the application. “You done with that?”

“Yeah, almost.” Lucien bent over the forms again. After a moment, though, he straightened up again. “Why the hell does she want me to say what my favorite food is?” he asked.

“Oh, that’s so if she finds any food stains in her books, she can identify the culprit,” Cassian said. “I think she started that a couple years ago after an employee left boysenberry jam all over her favorite copy of On the Back of the North Wind.”

Lucien shrugged and started writing. Cassian craned his neck, but he couldn’t read Lucien’s spiky handwriting upside down.

“Would you like to see?”

Cassian started, his neck heating, to find Lucien smirking at him. “You seem curious. Here.” He flipped the paper around.

Apple pie, Cassian read. “I would’ve thought you’d like some neo-vegan crap.”

Lucien pulled the papers back towards him and started writing again. “I’m vegetarian, not vegan, Cass,” he reminded the other man. “Also, just because I don’t eat meat, it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy food.”

“Wait.” Cassian narrowed his eyes. “You said you caught fish.”

Lucien flushed, glancing up. “Guilty. Fish is different. Sometimes I’m a pescatarian?”

Cassian laughed. “I’m not judging you. So, hypothetically, if I cooked salmon sometime, would you eat it?”

“Probably,” Lucien admitted. “My doctor says it’s good for me to get whatever good oils and stuff are in fish.”

“And also you like it.”

Lucien glared at him. Cassian just lifted his eyebrows, so he sighed. “Yes. And also I like it.” He put down his pen. “There. Application complete.”

“Awesome.” Cassian checked his watch, stood up, and stretched. “Back to the circulation desk, and then do you want me to drop you off at Feysand’s before my class at four?”

“Yeah, sure.” Lucien stood up as well. “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t until Cassian stopped the truck in front of Rhys and Feyre’s place that Lucien asked, “Cass? Do you really think I could get that job?”

“Yeah,” Cassian said. “And not just because I’m your friend. I really do.”

“We’re not friends,” Lucien said automatically, but he was smiling all the way up to the door, when he turned and waved at Cassian before the other man drove away.

#mine #acomaf #acomaf fanfiction #lucien #cassian #lucien x cassian #lussian #nesta archeron #morrigan

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mathematical-cheese · 2 years ago

Text

I am a: hero / villain / other: I do whatever I want

And:

a cinnamon roll / evil / other: chaotic neutral

Why am I doing this?:

tragic backstory / family legacy / sense of purpose / responsibility / someone has to / because it's fun / only thing i'm good at / for the money / sense of belonging / just feels right / i’d be sad if i didn’t / why else do i have all this power? / being forced to / just ended up like this / other:

How did I get my powers:

born with them / cursed with them / appeared out of the blue / lightning strike / natural disaster / lab accident / found a power granting being or object / saved someone’s life / uncovered an ancient secret / aliens / i stole them / i got them from someone else / training / no powers

My nemisis is:

my worst enemy / the closest thing to a friend I have / my best friend / my crush / the bane of my existence / an annoying little kid / a little kid i must protect / someone i must help / someone i must destroy / someone who needs me / a family member / other: the other wizard in the Tesco car park /ij

Hardest part of living a double life?

keeping your identity a secret / time management / sleep schedule / hiding your injuries / the struggle to not announce it to the world / not being able to profit off of it / loneliness / getting the best of no worlds / drained faster / free time? what’s that? / other:

Supersuit:

cape / gloves / utility belt / heeled shoes / pockets / hood / spandex / definitely not spandex / primary colors / tertiary colors / dark colors / gadgets / weapons / only one weapon: [cool wizard staff] / yo, we have supersuits? / other: cloak

Mask:

covers my eyes / covers my nose and mouth / only my eyes are visible / no mask / other:

My identity is safe because:

i wear a mask / i'm a completely different person under the mask / i'm not a people person / people are idiots / magic / no identity— everyone knows how I am! / other:

Puns! I'm the one who:

makes them / laughs at them / rolls my eyes at them / other:

Thanks for the tag!

No pressure tags: @tesco-brand-aromantics @shinekittenace @lostlovepunk @adecoysoul @blorbo-from-my-shows @dumb-ass-biatch @arandomuser17 @alectricblue @beanb-urrito and @ anyone else who'd like to have a go :))

Tag game! Heroes and villains version!

Feel free to choose multiple! Use this game for you, an OC, the ghost that haunts you, whatever! 🤩🥰 Special thanks to @eahravinqueen for helping me out with this :D

I am a:

hero / villain / other:

And:

a cinnamon roll / evil / other:

Why am I doing this?

How did I get my powers?

My nemesis is: